


Gotcha   ?

by screamingarrows



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, April Fools' Day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:05:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingarrows/pseuds/screamingarrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's not sure how it escalated this far. Honestly he isn't. <br/>It was- it was just supposed to be a joke. </p>
<p>In which Steve doesn't know what qualifies a bad prank and basically ruins the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotcha   ?

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Te peguei ?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701955) by [Rosetta (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Rosetta)



Steve’s not sure how it escalated this far. Honestly he isn't. 

It was- It was just supposed to be a joke. 

Whenever April first came around, back before, with Bucky, it was a common thing. Bucky would, he’d catch Steve coming home, standing in front of the door like a barricade and say “We’re through Punk,” and Steve would sneer and reply “About time,” and then they’d go and fight (”We don’t make sense, doll.” “You’re lucky I kept you around for so long.”). And they’d fight right into the bedroom, where they had the best sex of the year (because it made the sex so much better when it was angry)... But always, before Steve fell asleep, Buck would pull him close and whisper his love until Steve drifted off...

It’s not like Steve was trying to use Tony as a replacement for Bucky, when he went down to the lab this morning. He just- It was... 

He missed the tradition- the safety of fighting when he was  _sure_ the other person knew it was an act.   
  
And he really thought Tony would’ve known. 

\-----

Tony wasn’t the slightest bit suspicious when he saw Steve standing in the doorway of his lab. Hell, since they’d started dating, he’d argue Steve was in the lab just as much as Tony was; he’d become a familiar object the move around. Like the cot, if the cot hugged him from behind and brought him coffee cake and kissed the cuts on his hands when the metal slipped too much-

The point is, Tony was  _happy_ to see Steve standing there. 

He wasn’t happy seeing the somber look on his handsome face, however. 

He nodded and offered a slight grin when Steve walked in. “Hey, why the long face?” His grin deepened at the joke but Steve’s face didn’t change from the stony mask. Tony let the grin slowly drop off his face and set aside his work. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We should talk.” 

Oh. 

Tony’s heart jumped to his throat and he crossed his arms over his chest to keep his hands from visibly shaking. There was some emotion swimming in Steve’s eyes but Tony couldn’t hold the man’s gaze long enough to identify it. 

He looks around the room, trying to find any kind of distraction to prolong this ‘talk’ but finds nothing. 

“Tony?” Steve’s voice cuts through him and his eyes flicker back to the super-soldier. Tony forces his face blank and cocks an eyebrow. 

“Talk,” he commands and Steve cocks his head, a look of concern briefly flitting his face and before Tony can be soothing by that, Steve’s talking. 

“I think we should break up.” The tips of Steve’s ears turn pink but Tony can’t find that important because his heart is pounding so hard he’s positive it's hitting the arc reactor casing. 

“Okay.” 

The word falls from his lips, even though pleas are running through his head.  _‘What did I do? Don’t go. I can change. I can fix us, tell me how I can get you to stay. Please. Please, Steve, don’t leave me.’_  

“Because I was thinking, we don’t make much sense together, right?” 

Tony wants to scream. He agreed! Why, why,  _why_ is Steve still talking? He knows it doesn’t-  _didn’t_ \- make sense! He knows he wasn’t worth enough to be with Steve Rogers. He was just selfish enough to try though.

And look where he ended up. 

Look where he always ends up. 

Steve’s looking at him like he’s waiting for a response and so Tony clears his throat and forces his breathing even. “Yeah, no, yeah. You’re right.” 

Steve looks almost taken back, and opens his mouth and Tony bites the inside of his cheek before bursting into action, stopping Steve before any more explanations are revealed. 

“I  _can’t_ \- I won’t stand here and listen to this,” he says, voice quivering and he prays Steve won’t use that against him. “If you- if you want to leave a list of my bad behaviors with JARVIS, he can relay the message.” 

He’s out the door before Steve can get another word in. 

\-----

Steve’s left blinking alone in the lab, confused to all hell as to what just happened. 

“JARVIS?” He asks hesitantly. Immediately the AI’s voice crackles across the room. 

“I assure you, Captain Rogers, I will be taking no such message.” The voice is cold and Steve blinks, fighting the urge to take a step back. 

“Of course not! Christ Almighty, what just happened?” 

JARVIS ignores him and so Steve walks out of the room, worry clutching his chest with cold fingers. 

He gets in the elevator and goes to his floor. His and Tony’s floor. 

He’s hoping to find him there, to explain- and try and get an explanation himself- but the floor’s empty. 

“Uh, JARVIS?” He asks, unsure if he’ll get a response. There’s a long pause before, “Yes?” 

“Where’s Tony?” 

There’s another long pause. “I’m not at liberty to disclose Mister Stark’s location.” 

Okay. 

Steve sits at their kitchen table and puts his head in his hands. 

He’s fucked up.

\-----

By the time Tony makes it to the spare floor he made (in case they gain any more recruits he won’t have to remodel the whole building) he’s shaking. He barely has time to make it safely behind the front door before his legs give out and he sinks to the floor against the wall. 

He’s not sure why the breakup is hitting him so hard. 

Maybe because he  _tried_ so hard. 

It’s stupid. 

_He’s_  stupid. He never expected it to last; he should’ve seen the end coming from a mile away. 

The problem- the problem was that he got too caught up in it all. Too caught up in the mid-morning kisses and in the sleepy declarations of love and in the way Steve didn’t even have to ask how Tony takes his coffee- 

He got caught up in the  _emotion_ of it. 

And isn’t that the kicker. The man with a metal heart fell too in love. 

God, he should have said it more. He should have been more open, should have been more touchy-feely and maybe he wouldn’t be sitting nine floors below his own, crying into his knees over a broken heart. 

Part of him- the part that was raised in the spotlight and without mercy- that part wants to say “fuck Steve. I can do better any night of the week!” 

Part of him- the masochist- wants to ask JARVIS for the message Steve seemed all too eager to leave, to see if, maybe, he can fix his problems and get Steve back. 

But the largest part, it seems, is just so tired of being hurt all the time. 

\-----

“JARVIS, please, I just need to talk to Tony.” Steve’s been pleading with JARVIS for two hours, and he’s beginning to get sick and tired of hearing the same automatic response, “I’m sorry Captain Rogers, but Mister Stark is unavailable.” 

He’s completely destroyed their floor, in the past two hours he’d been up there, waiting, hoping, Tony would come up. 

Nervous energy caused him to toss all their sheets into the closet, all the pillows into the hall. He’s gone through his drawers so many times he’s sure it’ll take him hours to get them neat again. He’s reorganized the living room, put it back, and has added the couch cushions into the hall with the other pillows. All the cabinet doors are open, and they’ve been reorganized as well. 

He’s gathering the couch cushions back into his arms, prepared to start cleaning the mess he’s made, when the front door clicks shut. 

Steve turns wildly and peers around the corner to see Tony, standing with a slight frown in the doorway. 

“Tony!” The name explodes from Steve’s lips and Tony’s eyes dart away from the slightly-off-from-normal living room, to Steve who is still holding the couch cushions. 

Tony’s eyes are red-rimmed and glassy but his eyes narrow, even though his breath hitches in his chest. 

“JARVIS said you wanted to talk to me.”

It’s not a question but Steve is nodding enthusiastically anyways. “Yes, God, Tony, it was just a misunderstanding-” 

Tony’s eyes seem to narrow even more and despite his size, Steve feels like Tony is barring over him. 

“I don’t need your pity or your games, Rogers.” He hisses and Steve winces. 

“No, Tony,” he drops the cushions and takes a step towards him, but freezes when Tony takes a step back, his heel hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Tony,” he says, ducking his head just slightly to try and appear smaller, his voice soft like he’s talking to a stray cat. “It was, I didn’t mean it. It’s April Fools. It was a prank.. I thought we’d fight and then, then  _make up_.” His entire body is on fire, slowly burning as Tony stares at him in silence. 

“What,” he starts, his voice soft, before it gets suddenly hard, “the fuck.” 

Steve blinks as Tony’s face twists from anger, to hurt, to confusion, back to anger. 

“What the fuck, Steve? What kind of sick prank is that?” 

Steve rushes to speak but Tony steamrolls on. 

“Putting my face all over Clint’s apartment;  _that’s_ a prank. Stealing all of Bruce’s socks;  _that’s_  a prank. Fucking  _breaking up_  with someone? Not a prank. What the actual hell, Steve?” 

Tony’s backing out the door and Steve’s tripping over the cushions after him. “Tony, wait-” 

Tony spins to him as the elevator doors open behind him. “ _Who does that?_ ” 

Steve doesn’t have an answer. 

\-----

Tony paces around the empty floor that’s moonlighting as his hideout. Anger and relief shaking his body apart with each lap he does. 

Looking back, he can see the signs of Steve’s lie, and had he been able to think, he never would have fallen for it. Tony knows first hand how bad Steve is at lying, but at the time all Tony could focus on was his biggest fear coming to life. 

Deep down, he knew he’d already forgiven Steve, but he was too angry to see the other man yet. Plus, Tony reasoned, it wouldn’t hurt Steve any to marinate in the guilt a little. 

He had honestly meant to go back up that night, so they could talk it over like responsible adults, but the emotional exhaustion of the day wore him out drug him down, down, down, and he fell asleep on the couch. 

\-----

Steve starts pacing again, tension building up faster than he can burn it off. He wants to go to the gym, break a few punching bags, but he doesn’t want to leave in case Tony comes back. He tries stretching the tension out of his muscles, but all that does is tighten his chest and makes it hard to breathe. 

It seems like the night lasts forever; it’s an eternity before the sun dyes the sky pink and orange. It makes Steve think of all the first sunrises he saw: with Bucky, the sky’s beauty muted, with his healed eyes, he’s not ashamed to admit he cried a little when he realized how  _rich_ the colors were, how every morning seemed to be different but the same. 

His first sunrise with Tony. They were sitting on the roof, both unable to sleep due to nightmares. Tony had checked his watch before letting out a little sigh and twisting his body to face east. Tony closed his eyes as the rising sun crept across New York to kiss everything awake; Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away from they way Tony seemed to glow gold, back-dropped against light gray concrete, a faint smile touching his lips. He looked like a Greek sculpture- a deity captured in marble.

Steve closes his eyes against the rising sun and hopes it’s not the first one he spends without Tony. 

He’s sitting on the couch, head in his hands, when the front door opens. Steve’s head whips up and Tony’s standing in the doorway, sheepish half-smile on his face. 

“I fell asleep,” he says and Steve nods, eyes wide and face open to every emotion that he’s feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, and then softer, more controlled, “ _I’m sorry._ ”

Tony nods, walking into the room and stopping just short of the couch. 

“I know. If I had been thinking-”

“No, Tony, the fault was all mine!” 

Tony gives Steve a slight grin and blinks. “Yeah, I know it was.” 

“Oh,” Steve blushes and looks down. 

“But,” Tony says, sitting beside him on the couch. He’s looking straight ahead when he says, “but I forgive you.” 

Steve wants to lean over and kiss him, but instead he reaches for Tony’s hand, holding it tight. His palm is sweaty and for half a moment he feels self-conscious about it, but he doesn’t let go of Tony’s hand and says “thank you”. 

\-----

They’re sitting on the couch, pressed against each other. Tony’s turned so his back is against the couch arm, and Steve has one leg tucked under him and one hanging over the edge. 

Tony hadn’t waited any time after giving his forgiveness to press against Steve’s pushing him nearly down against the couch and kissing him hard. Steve met the kiss with equal force before trying to soften it, kissing along Tony’s mouth and up his jaw, down his neck. Slowly he pushed himself back up, wrapping his arms around Tony and pulling them closer together. 

“Why would you even believe me? How could you think I’d end it that fast?” Steve whispers against Tony’s skin, at the soft spot between his neck and shoulder. He feels the smaller man shrug. 

“It- it made sense,” came Tony’s equally soft reply. Steve pulls away and grabs Tony’s face in his hands. 

“That’s not true, Tony. What can I- how can I prove to you-” 

“Steve,” Tony says softly, raising his hands to cup Steve’s against his face. “Steve, I’ve got,  _a lot_ of problems. It’s not- there’s no easy fix.” 

Tony looks down and Steve pulls him in, kisses the breath out of him. “I’m not looking for an easy fix, Tony. I’m looking for a future, for a- for a dancing partner.”   
  
Tony meets his eyes, and his lips pull into a soft smile, before growing bigger into a full-fledged grin. 

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Steve Rogers.” 

“Mmm,” Steve hums his agreement against Tony’s lips. “I’m hopelessly in love,” he adds, and swallows Tony’s laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first stony fic and was completely unbeta'ed and written in like an hour and a half so if you see mistakes, feel free to let me know.


End file.
